Hidden Intent
by Ink Spotz
Summary: John and Mary's child, Talia, has been kidnapped. The kidnappers only have one request. In order for Talia to be released, unharmed, they want Sherlock. Sherlock looks into the matter to discover that there is a mole involved in the operation. He discovers that everyone is hiding something, and he has to find out who is behind the plan before Talia, and his life, are gone.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Sherlock had never heard John panic so much in his entire life.

When he had picked up his mobile to answer John's call, he thought that he would have to come up with some other excuse to get out of babysitting their six month old, Talia, again. It wasn't that he didn't love the girl; he was her godfather and all, but he didn't want to be asked to babysit every other day. He did want some time to himself. That was just the sociopath in him he supposed. However, this time, when he placed the mobile to his ear, he could hear John's high-pitched, panicked voice reply.

"Sherlock...I can't find Talia."

Sherlock's first reaction was that Talia had simply found her way out of the nursery when her parents backs were turned, and that she was hiding underneath the bed in the master bedroom. Before he could articulate his reaction to John, he replied, "And before you say anything, I've searched the entire house."

He let out a thoughtful hum. That was certainly an answer that he wasn't expecting to receive.

"Sherlock...she's gone. Someone took her. Mary is hysterical."

"As I would expect," said Sherlock, his mind wandering, trying to think of how Talia might have gone missing.

"Sherlock..."

"John, if you want me to help you, you do realize that I will have to ask you a series of questions?"

"Yes, of course..."

John still sounded as if he were about to hyper ventilate on the other end of the line. Sherlock let his eyes wander to the kitchen in his flat, which was still cluttered with his latest experiment. It looked as if it hadn't been cleaned in almost a month, and in all honesty, it probably hadn't. Mrs. Hudson had just about surrendered to Sherlock and his experiments, realizing that no matter how hard she cleaned, things would just become cluttered again. The possibility of inviting John and Mary over for tea, and questioning seemed like it would be stalled a bit. Maybe he could convince Mrs. Hudson to make some tea. Yes, that's what he'd do.

All of this, he had thought within the span of ten seconds.

"Can you and Mary come by the flat around one or so? We can have some tea, and I can ask you some questions."

John let out a sigh.

"Alright. Thank you for doing this, Sherlock. I'm just so worried. I mean, she's our baby girl..."

He nodded solemnly, even though he knew that no one besides his reflection in the mirror could see him perform the action.

"I understand, John. Don't worry. We will find her."

"Alright. See you soon then, Sherlock."

Soon, the other line went dead. Sherlock stared at his mobile for the longest while after the call, going over the transaction that had just taken place. He was slowly allowing what John had just told him to sink in. Talia, John and Mary's baby daughter, his goddaughter, was missing. Talia, the cutest baby girl that he ever had the good fortune to lay his eyes on, the beautiful child with the curly blond hair and the big baby blue eyes, was missing. He hung up his mobile, and placed it down onto the desk. He felt himself already starting to wander in the recesses of his mind palace in an attempt to start tracking down Talia's whereabouts with no information at all to go on.

He walked over to the window as he thought, reaching out a hand to pull aside the curtain, casting his gaze down onto the street, his crystal blue eyes scanning the people that leisurely walked by on the sidewalk. Talia couldn't have gotten too far. Maybe they were just being paranoid, being fairly new parents and all, and forgot they had left her in another room or something. He couldn't bear to think that Talia was being held somewhere out there, no doubt for a ransom of some sort. He couldn't bear to picture that sweet, innocent baby girl in the hands of the cruel world.

As he was staring out the window, he heard the familiar clicking sounds on the floorboards of his flat, signifying that Mrs. Hudson was around. He turned his head slightly over his shoulder to watch as Mrs. Hudson entered the kitchen. He smiled slightly. She was going to try once more. What a brave woman.

He turned fully around, walking with slow, and measured steps toward the kitchen. He paused in the doorway and watched her for a moment, watching as disgust crept onto her face as she examined one of his latest experiments.

"Oh, Sherlock. What have you done to the China?" said Mrs. Hudson with concern, as if the China glasses had a life. She lifted one up delicately, tipping it to look at the clumpy light green liquid inside it. "What _is _this, Sherlock?"

Sherlock walked over to her, leaning over her slightly to examine the contents.

"That would happen to be human mucus."

"In my good China?!" She said, turning to him with a startled expression.

"I had to put it somewhere," he said innocently, a small smile working its way onto his face.

Mrs. Hudson let out a sigh.

"What am I going to do with you, Sherlock?" asked Mrs. Hudson.

"Shall I answer your rhetorical question?" asked Sherlock, moving quickly yet gracefully, to save Mrs. Hudson from dumping his mucus experiment down the sink.

"Why? Is there something you need, Sherlock?" asked Mrs. Hudson, looking at the disarray in the kitchen, hands on her hips.

"Well, yes actually," said Sherlock, setting the cup down, looking at her. "John and Mary are coming over, and..."

"Oh! They are!" said Mrs. Hudson, practically squealing with glee, "And they'll bring along Talia too, I'm sure. Oh, that cute little curly girl!"

"Mrs. Hudson, Talia will not be accompanying them today."

"Oh, is she staying with Molly Hooper then? Is she babysitting for them again like she's been?"

"No," said Sherlock. "Actually, Mrs. Hudson, Talia is the reason John and Mary are coming over. She's missing."

"Missing!" gasped Mrs. Hudson, clapping her hands over her O-shaped mouth. "What happened?"

"I don't know. They don't either. That's what I'm going to find out."

"Oh, that's just horrible! Who would want to kidnap any innocent, baby girl?"

Sherlock shrugged, not having an answer for her question.

"Would you mind making some tea, and maybe even some biscuits, for their visit this afternoon? They'll be here at one."

Mrs. Hudson was silent for a moment, no doubt trying to let the news of Talia missing, sink in. Finally, after a minute or two of complete silence, she slowly nodded her head.

"Alright, I can have it ready, but remember Sherlock, I'm not your housekeeper."

A small smile crossed Sherlock's face as he nodded slowly.

"I'll remember, and thank you Mrs. Hudson."

She gave him a small smile back, though Sherlock could see that her smile was clouded by the worry running through her at the news of Talia. He watched her exit the kitchen, walking back downstairs. When she was gone, Sherlock started to disappear back into his head again. He leaned against the counter, thinking about Talia again. He would find her. No matter the cost. He would make sure that she was returned unharmed. He thought that he had seen the worst card that life could have dealt him, but he was terribly mistaken. _This_ was the worst situation that he had ever dealt with in his life, but Sherlock had a few tricks up his sleeve. Giving up was not an option for him. He'd find his goddaughter or die trying.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Sherlock sat across from John and Mary on the sofa, his legs crossed. Mrs. Hudson had poured them all a cup of tea and set it on the coffee table before them all, but none of them had touched it yet. Mary's face was stained red from her non-stop crying. As it was, she still hadn't fully calmed down. Tears still streaked silently down either side of her face. John, on the other hand, had a white face. He was staring straight ahead as if lost in thought, one arm wrapped around Mary in order to pull her closer.

"John," said Sherlock, trying to snap him out of the trance he was in. "I need you to focus for a couple minutes."

John's eyes finally snapped up to look into Sherlock's.

"Sorry..."

He dismissively waved his hand at John, in a gesture that told him that it was alright. Sherlock reached forward to grab one of the tea cups. He brought it up and placed it to his lips.

"Tell me the last place that you saw her."

"In her nursery. Mary and I were downstairs because she was sleeping. I was reading the newspaper, and Mary was cooking in the kitchen..."

"What newspaper were you reading? What was she cooking?"

"Why do you need to know that?"

"No detail can go unmissed. No telling what is important in this case."

John took a deep breath, and released it in a sigh.

"I was reading, 'The London Times', and Mary was cooking chicken stew."

"Thank you," said Sherlock as he took a small sip of the tea, setting the cup back down. "Sorry. Now you may continue with what you were saying before."

"Well, as I was saying before, I was reading the paper, and Mary was cooking. The baby monitor was on the counter beside Mary. Suddenly, the monitor reception turned to static. Worried, I offered to check on Talia. I went upstairs to look in the nursery where we had left her to see that the window was open, the curtains billowing in the wind, and Talia gone."

Mary let out a small gasp as John said that, trying in vain to not start crying again.

"Mary, it'll be okay. Sherlock will help us," said John in an attempt to calm her down.

"Yes, Mary. I shall help to find her, and I will," assured Sherlock.

John looked back at Sherlock, biting his lip nervously.

"What should we do first?" asked John.

"Well, did you call the Yard?"

John shook his head.

"I wanted you to be the one to handle this, and you always say that the Yard is in the way."

Sherlock smiled slightly, nodding.

"It's true. They always are trying to do things that they don't have the ability to."

John allowed himself to smile slightly at Sherlock's comment, looking at him.

"What do you propose be done first?" asked John again, seeming eager to get the ball rolling.

"Since the Yard is not involved, I'm assuming that the scene of the abduction hasn't been touched yet, right?"

"Right," said John.

Sherlock stood up from his seat, going into his room, and returning with a small case.

"What is that?" asked John.

"My tools," replied Sherlock vaguely. "May I go to the scene now?"

"Yes," said John.

John rose from his seat on the couch. Mary didn't make any motion. She didn't look as if she were planning on moving anytime soon.

"Mary, you can stay here if you'd prefer. I'm sure Mrs. Hudson will keep you company."

Sherlock knew that to be true. As soon as he left with John, she'd no doubt come in here and try to talk with Mary and to comfort her. She was wonderful like that.

Sherlock and John exited the flat, walking outside and hailing a cab. Once they had hailed a cab, the two of them got inside, and for a second, it felt like old times again. However, it wasn't. John's daughter was in trouble. This was far worse than any situation they had ever been faced with in their past cases. On the ride to John and Mary's place, John was silent, which left some awkwardness in the air between them. Sherlock wasn't one for knowing how to go about starting small talk. He wasn't sure how to go about this at all. He took a deep breath, turning to focus out the window before he even bothering trying to come up with a decent reply.

"How long has Talia been missing?"

John rolled up his sleeve, looking at the face of his watch as Sherlock turned back to look at him.

"About an hour now."

"Ah, so when did you contact me? How long had she been missing when you contacted me?"

"I'd say she was missing for ten to fifteen minutes before I called you."

Sherlock nodded, soaking all of these facts in. He was going to look at every detail, no matter how knit-picky. He was going to catch Talia's kidnapper.

When they arrived, Sherlock followed John into the small house. John unlocked the door, and Sherlock watched intently. He wanted to see how easy it was to manipulate the lock. Getting bored after a couple of seconds, he let his eyes wander around the rest of the house. The house was quite small, consisting of two floors. The bottom floor only had two windows on the front, one on the right and the other on the left. To the naked eye, it didn't look as if either of the windows had been tampered with. He made himself a mental note that he would have to check the windows later just to be safe.

Backing up from John some, Sherlock let his eyes wander to the upper story windows where, once again, there was one window on the right and another on the left. These windows looked untampered too. Sherlock closed his eyes for a brief second to visualize the house in his mind palace. With his eyes still closed, he heard John open the door and push it open.

"Sherlock? Did you find something?"

Sherlock opened his eyes, turning his blue gaze onto John's.

"No, I was merely making a mental map of your house for future reference."

"Right," said John slowly, smiling slightly. "Well, come on in. I'll show you Talia's nursery."

Sherlock nodded, walking into the house. John shut the door behind them and proceeded to lead Sherlock up the stairs to a room that lay to the left. The beige door was cracked open slightly, the tan carpet inside visible. Sherlock followed John into the room, looking around at the baby pink walls. He let his eyes wander, soaking in every possible detail. He walked over to the window, crouching down in front of it. It was half way open, the space between the window and the sill was enough to allow a person to get out if they needed to. He looked out the window to a tree that stood a couple yards away from the window.

"Has this window been touched since Talia was missing?"

"No," said John, standing behind Sherlock and watching him work.

Sherlock laid his case beside him, opening it. He placed plastic gloves onto his hands as he proceeded to dust the window sill for finger prints. After he had collected his sample, which he would test later at his flat, he stood up and allowed himself to kneel partway on the window sill. He turned to John.

"Can you please hand me one of Talia's dolls?"

John walked over to the crib and grabbed the doll that Talia had there. His eyes watered slightly as he handed the doll to Sherlock. Sherlock cradled the doll in one arm as if it were real, and bent down to try to fit out the window. Once on the other side of the glass, there wasn't much sill to stand on. He felt as if he were hanging off the edge of a cliff. Luckily the drop wasn't too far. Sherlock used the arm that wasn't cradling the baby to reach the sturdy branch of the tree in front of him. He tried and failed. During his attempts, he could feel his balance become more unstable. Suddenly, he lost balance all together. He felt his body tilt forward, the doll slipping from his grasp and landed on the grass. John could see that Sherlock was about to fall and used his hands to open the window all the way, reaching out to him, but reaching out too late.

Sherlock felt himself start to fall, and reached out one more time for the branch. Now that both hands were free, he managed to. He grabbed the branch, hanging from it, looking at John.

"Are you okay, Sherlock?"

"I'm fine, John," said Sherlock, trying to use his arms to pull himself up onto the branch.

"What were you doing, Sherlock?"

"Testing one of their possible escape routes. This is the only viable way that they could have snuck Talia out of the nursery without you seeing them."

John looked down at the ground to look at the doll that laid in the grass.

"But, how did they do it? You dropped the doll, which I'm assuming represented Talia."

"You're quite correct there, John," commented Sherlock, finally managing to pull himself onto the branch and take a seat. He looked at John. "I have a theory."

"Well, lets hear it," said John.

"Whoever kidnapped Talia wasn't working alone. There was more than one of them."

"What do you mean?"

"Obviously there were at least two. One of them snuck in through the window, snatched Talia from her crib, and passed her to the man waiting in the tree." Sherlock inclined his head to the side slightly. "The man could have easily taken Talia from the other man's grasp from here. If you were to pass me another doll from the nursery, you'd be able to. Therefore, that was how Talia was taken out of the room. The man in the nursery would then be able to grab a hold of the branch once Talia was handed off. It's quite elementary once you think about it, John."

John rolled his eyes.

"Of course it is, Sherlock. You always say that."

Sherlock smiled at John, his plastic gloves torn on his hands a bit from the desperate grab for the branch.

"What now, Sherlock?" asked John.

"I get down from this tree, retrieve the doll, and come back inside to finish my examination."

John chuckled.

"I'd like to see you get down."

"I can," said Sherlock. "Don't doubt my abilities."

Sherlock backed up and wrapped his arms around the trunk, shifting his feet slowly in order to make his way toward the ground. Once on the ground, he went over to pick up the doll he had dropped. Tucking the doll gingerly in his hands, Sherlock turned to walk back into John's house, determined to see if there were any more clues to be found there.


End file.
